everyone hates mondays

Monday, 9:50 AM

I thought I would post this so you guys can get an idea of just how engaging my lessons are. It should be noted that just 10 minutes before this, Simon, age 2, had busted through my door to announce his arrival, "I MADE IT TO SPANISH EVERYONE!"

rules are for following

One of the little boys in one of the three-year-old classes, Liam (different Liam), is the most adorably bossy kid I've ever met. He has this obsession with rules and making sure that everyone around him understands them. There are a couple of really nice books that I've repeatedly told the kids are for the teachers, not the students. He greeted me one morning by shoving one of these books in my face to clarify my rule.

Liam: "Miss Kathy, I know that these books are for the teachers and not the stupids."
Me: "Excuse me?"
Liam: "For the teachers, not the stupids."

Got that stupids? Don't touch my books.

arabian nights

This post has nothing to do with teaching but it is an excellent quote I collected from an 11-year-old boy at the Jordanian wedding I attended this weekend. Being among the few non-Arabs in attendance, a family of four boys and mine came together. I don't know if you've ever been to an Arab wedding, but it involves some serious dancing. I'm talking hours upon hours of dancing for at least a couple of consecutive nights. Saturday night, following the henna ceremony, was probably the longest dancing streak ever. A full 5 hours straight. And everyone was involved.

I've never been known to even recognize where my hips are, so my presence at this wedding alone was probably an embarrassment to all mankind. But these people were seriously getting down. When what seemed to be a belly-dancing song came on, this boy, Isaac, remarked, "Wow, even the fat ladies know how to move their junks."

Adorable AND respectful. Future of America, folks.

dora isn't the only explorer around these parts...in her head

This week, lots of kids were returning from fabulous trips to warmer climates since spring break happened just last week. Remember crazy-I-will-eff-you-up Katherine? She strolled in this morning and this is the conversation that followed:

Me: "Katherine! Where have you been all week?"
Katherine: "AUSTRALIA!"
(WOW! I thought. Those parents sound awesome!)
Katherine's Mom: "That's not true..."
Katherine: "You didn't let me finish...in my head..."

Sure, I'll take it. Later, during Spanish class, I overheard her talking to a group of about five other kids.

Katherine: "...and since I'm leaving for Mexico tomorrow, I really need to be careful with the chupacabras. Especially the purple kind."

Yet another lie. I'm definitely not qualified to diagnose this child, but seriously?? What the heck do her parents talk about at home??

my favorite child in the world

It should be noted that I am an excellent teacher and that I definitely show no preference towards any particular child at my school. This ought to be a given. Even still, there are situations that arise in which I find myself falling in love with one child more than the others to the point of considering how I can take him/her home without their parents having an issue.

If I had to chose one kid to fit this scenario, it would have to be one little boy with a huge head of messy bright blond hair (his mother claims she can't tame his wild mane...I actually believe her because one time I tried and my fingers got tangled up in the hot mess). Regardless of his inability to maintain a coiffed 'do, I LOVE HIM. He was moved up early from his regular 2-year-old class to a 3-year-old classroom because he was just too smart. The other day, as I released the little ones from my lecture to their activity, he lagged behind and randomly said, "Miss Kathy, I only like to listen to smooth jazz in my car."-Liam, age 3 (freshly!).

Note taken small child...for when I put you in my own car and love you for always!

feisty people

I really don't even have a background story for this quote. It just kind of happened.

"You should always be afraid of people with long nails. They're always so feisty"-Philip, age 3.

I really can't even explain. I just bursted out laughing and he looked at me like I was laughing at the Holocaust. Shame on me for taking this matter lightly.

do you know something?

In one of my classes, I have the dreamiest little 4-year-old on the face of this earth. His name is Jacopo, he speaks with a very obvious Italian accent, wears the sweetest outfits, and begins most statements with a, "Do you know something?..."

This week's theme at school was dental hygiene so I taught a lesson on brushing your teeth and made them learn the Spanish words for teeth, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

Me: "...and in Spanish toothpaste is pasta."
Jacopo: "Do you know something? Pasta?? That is like pssghetti! In Italy we love to EAT pasta! I am from Pisa, but not the kind you eat. The kind you live in. Did you know that Miss Kathy? You can live in Pisa?"

Do you know something? It sounds like I need to move to Pisa. To live there, not to eat it. And to find myself a stud. Just like Jacopo.

i have a secret

Whenever Rider's class is about to come in, I try mentally and physically prepare myself for this kid's entrance. And even then, I'm usually not prepared enough. He has these explosions of excitement and doesn't quite know how to handle all of his emotions. Instead, he always attacks me with a MASSIVE HUG--I'm talking the kind that knocks the wind out of you--and grabs my face with both his hands so that I am exclusively saying hello to him first. Even with the perpetual threat of him breaking my body, I can't help but love the kid. One time he even told me we were best friends. SwoOoooOoooOOoon.

One day, he entered with his ritual manhandling and yelled to me that he had a secret. I told him he wasn't allowed to interrupt my class today and his secret would have to wait till at least after we sang our hello song. I should clarify that Rider seems to be under the impression that I need everyone to like me (you cut to the core of me, Baxter. Anchorman, anyone?). So throughout the entire hello song and my short review, he kept slapping my legs, repeating that he just HAD to tell me this big secret. After attempting to contain him for a total of 10 MINUTES, I finally caved.

Me: "What is it Rider?"
Rider: "I have to tell you in your ear...it's a seeeeeeeeecret!
(creeps up to my ear)
Rider: "I just gotta tell you...if you let us watch tv, I bet everyone will love you. That's my secret for you because it's important to be popular."

Someone get this kid to the White House. This is diplomacy in the making people.

i was wrong to think a cowboy mouse was adorable

If you were ever a child in Latin America or grew up in a Latin American home, you've heard of Cri-Cri. He is the equivalent of Jiminy Cricket down south and sings about vowels, ugly dolls, and other hilarious topics enjoyed by Spanish-speaking children. My parents have home videos of me performing entire Cri-Cri tapes, so when I started teaching Spanish to the kiddies, I was so excited to relive this part of my childhood. With the convenience provided by YouTube, I immediately found an accompanying video for the song I wanted to use in my lesson. The song is about a cowboy mouse who gets locked up but can't do anything about it because he only speaks English and everyone around him speaks Spanish. A hilarious and adorable video, if you ask me.

Most kids seemed to share my sentiment and requested that next class, I play it again. Pleased with myself, I welcomed my last class of the day into my classroom, the older 4's.

I played the video and immediately after, a little hand shot up in the air.

"Yes Jordan?"

"Miss Kathy, have you heard of the National Rifle Association?"

Uhhh yeah...have you 4-year-old??

"Well Miss Kathy, I just think he should have those guns registered."

Oh okay, I'll have his permits faxed over to you.

Seriously, what??? I know my parents had adult conversations around me when I was this kid's age, but I never actually paid attention. I was too preoccupied with perfecting my popular girl handwriting or probably pasting Lisa Frank stickers to my walls. WHAT IS THIS?

For the record, I hate overpunctuation but these kids are making me break all my rules. I feel the only way to convey my emotions is by using more than one question mark. I'm sure I'll break some other rule shortly.

life after death?

It's been my experience that when I enter a room filled with pre-schoolers, I instantly become the most fascinating novelty. I will enter and am automatically surrounded by 12+ high-pitched little voices calling for my attention--they tend to be delivering earth-shattering news. Somehow, along with the tugging of my legs, this never gets old. In fact, it's definitely been quite an ego boost.

But I digress! Upon one of these said entrances, I randomly chose to focus on one little girl's story about her family vacation. Just as she was about to tell me all about the new outfits she had gotten while in Arkansas (the nation's fashion capital! I MEAN, COME ON MISS KATHY!), I felt a not-so-subtle tug on my skirt. I turned around and looked down at a very angry and scrunched up face.

"Miss Kathy! I'm TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING! Some people think that when you die, you come back as something else. It's called reincarnation. You should probably read a book about it for when you die."-Hunter, age 3

Why that sounds delightful. I've been meaning to do some light reading...

Eeestop Your Crying

This was about my third day on the job and I walked into a classroom to this.

SCENE: Kids going crazy all over the classroom and the little trouble-making boy who I've been previously introduced to as Steve, is already at the thinking table...
Teacher's Explanation: "They haven't been outside in months, so they're starting to lose it." Umm...ok?

Just as I'm about to settle in, among the chaos, I hear loudly and clearly:
"I WILL F@%^ YOU UP!"-Katherine, age 3.*
As I get over my disbelief for this little girl's potty mouth, I shuffle her over to a makeshift time out area as Steve is already occupying the thinking table. Just as I sit her down--at this point, Darling Katherine is kicking and screaming--I hear another loud little voice scream, "I WILL BEAT YOUR A$#!"-Morgan, age 3*

I'm literally about to lose it because umm, hello? Why are these kids so angry?? As I move to place Morgan in yet another new time out chair, Katherine has gotten angrier and louder with her tantrum. Steve, who is from Russia and hardly speaks English, gets out of his seat at the thinking table and in a thick accents states the following to angry little Katherine:
"Eeestop your crying. No one wants to hear you cry anymore." And retreats back to the TT (I will now refer to the thinking table as the TT because I feel like it will become a commonly used word in my stories), as if his business is finished. Well, I couldn't have said it better myself. She was starting to get on my one big nerve.

Welcome to teaching, I suppose.


*I normally don't sensor profanity but coming from a 3-year-old, I just can't bring myself to spell it out.

hello recession, thank you for my new career

As a recent graduate, looking for a job proved to be quite a difficult task. I double majored in political science and Latin American studies and I found that anywhere I looked into applying kept giving me the same story: "Thanks for applying but we're not sure if we have funding for this position." Oh really? Well then, thank you for wasting my time and gas on making it out here to hear that. Anyways, I ended up randomly applying to a job at a local preschool for a position directing their Spanish language program. After interviewing in August, I got a call in December asking me if I was still looking for a job and if I wanted the position. To this day, I'm not sure if my boss heard the desperation in my reply when I accepted. I figured, preschool Spanish, I can handle this. Having health coverage doesn't sound terrible either.

I should clarify that I'm teaching in an area that is relatively affluent and breeds tens of thousands of annoying overachievers. Thinking preschool children would be unaffected by this, I went in on my first day.

I left that day questioning whether or not I was actually qualified to be teaching these kids. My school apparently feeds directly into the ideals of overachieving yuppies and my kids were well on their way to becoming the future owners of the world. I've entertained a couple of my friends with valuable quotes and stories and now I want to entertain the rest of the interweb. Here are my tales of being a preschool nothing.